


For a First Effort (This Feels Kinda Last Ditch)

by Sherlocked



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Minor Violence, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, PoC, Wolfdog, canonical violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:16:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked/pseuds/Sherlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Machine didn't only call Root and John; or The Reason Why They Stopped Getting Numbers For a While.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leupagus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leupagus/gifts).



> THIS IS ALL LEUPAGUS' FAULT.
> 
> Well, sorta, it's explained here (http://feywinds.tumblr.com/post/53173126416/okay-so-i-was-finishing-up-person-of-interest-a) and I've gone in a slightly different direction that I will not even try to justify because it makes sense in my head and probably not to anyone else till they read it.
> 
> And only maybe then.
> 
> HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS! I'm having fun writing/ had fun writing (depending when you read this; I hope future me finished this) this, even if it is/was the bane of my existence sometimes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello?”
> 
> “ _ **Can I ask you why you’re at a party right now?**_ ”
> 
> “Because this party is being thrown by an Irish mob boss’s kid.”
> 
> “ _ **How do you know?**_ ” 
> 
> “He and his friends were attacked a couple years ago, and they all have limps. The guy who went after them kneecapped them.”
> 
> “ _ **Okay?**_ ”
> 
> “It’s sort of hard to miss the group of pasty white guys in their mid twenties with limps getting plastered.”

D-Day

Zachary Summers was coding in his obviously very expensive apartment when his cell phone started ringing. He glanced at the time (midnight exactly) before picking up.

“Hello?”

“ _Can you hear me?_ ” The voice was off, disjointed and recorded. Zach leaned back, intrigued.

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“ _Northern Lights._ ” Zach straightened. “ _I need your help._ ”

“Anything.”

“ _Help them._ ” A window popped open on his main monitor as _something_ got downloaded onto his computer, which was quickly replaced by what looked like a social security number. “ _You’ll need her._ ”

~

Zach felt like a creeper, watching the ginger from across the Washington Square Park through high-powered binoculars.

She was tall and attractive in a non-traditional way, only enough to leave a vague impression afterwards. She had long auburn hair that was pulled up in a messy bun while in comfortable-looking jeans and a slightly baggy hoodie, and looked wrapped up in whoever she’s apparently texting. She looked every inch the tired college sophomore she probably was and Zach was honestly at a loss as to what NL thought she’ll help him with, but he got distracted when someone bumps into him and when he looks back- 

She’s gone.

Zach had a mild panic attack which was replaced by a mild heart attack when someone- she is taking him by the scruff of the neck and dragging him off. He’s divided on how he should handle this; on one hand, it’s fucking with his back, and he knows for a fact the people at his pharmacy think he’s an addict, but on the other he’s a 6’2” black man and she’s a 5’9” white woman and there are very bad odds that it’ll go in his favor if it comes to that.

Happily, before he had to make a decision, she’d shoved him against the arch, not giving him any room.

“Why’re you watching me?” Her voice was hushed, but there was a definite edge to it that made the more primal part of Zach’s brain want him to bare his throat to her. He cleared his throat around the arm pressed against his neck.

“I want to help people, and I have a source that tells me I’d need your help for that.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Help people with what, exactly?” Zach spread his arms out placatingly.

“Let me show you, Ms Smith.” She blinked, the only sign of shock on her otherwise straight face. “Honestly, it’ll be much easier. It’s even within walking distance.”

~

Smith eventually leaned off of him and let him lead the way- and yes, he did notice the way she stayed slightly behind him. He was ignoring that, along with the way he could practically _feel_ her looking him over.

“So, what do you know about me?” Zach glanced over his shoulder, but couldn’t see her. He was about to condemn himself to more back pain when she sped up slightly to get back into his field of vision. His cheeks _totally didn’t_ heat up when he glanced at her and then back in front of him.

It really didn’t help that her voice (when she wasn’t threatening bodily harm) was _really_ nice. He could listen to her read the phonebook. 

He shoved that out of the way and went back to being as professional as possible.

“Your name is Natalie Smith, you’re 19, you’re a Art History major who got here on scholarship and you room in a triple in the dorms on Bleeker.” 

There was an awkward silence.

“That’s it?”

“Yep. Other than you grew up an orphan in Nowhereville, that’s all I got.” He glanced back in time to catch Smith nod to herself.

“Good to know.” 

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and Zach could feel the look Smith gave him when they ducked into Our Lady of Pompeii, and he pulled his best innocent face when he sat in the back pew and patted the seat next to him. Once she sat down, he nodded forward to a figure near the front of the church.

“Helen Abelli, 23, works at PharmaAds on Varick as a Art Designer. She moved here from Italy 5 years ago with her parents. And she is either in trouble or is about to cause it.”

Zach eyed the woman, wondering what NL actually had on her. He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed it when Smith answered, “No.”

Zach shook his head, looking at her.

“What?”

“I said no.” She got up, walked out of the pew, and turned. “I would be willing to bet she wouldn’t go home with you, even after you bought her a drink.” Sarcasm dripped from her words before she rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you think I’m going to do for you, but the answer is no.” She waved and walked back out, Zach gritting his teeth against the pain as he hurried out after her.

“Wait-” is all he gets out after he puts a hand on her shoulder, because after that he can feel the bones in his hand _squeak_ under her grip and theres a blur before he’s pressed up against the building with his arm twisted behind his back and Smith’ breath hot against the back of his neck.

“No means no. I realize that you’re a self-entitled rich bitch, but that’s still something you need to learn. Now _leave. Me. Alone._ ” Aaaaaand there was the apex predator voice again and Zach was sort of glad he didn’t need the help freezing up his limbs as Smith walked away, because he wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t snap and tear him to pieces.

~

Yeah, yesterday hadn’t been a good day for Smith, what with coming back to the dorm and being sexiled after being propositioned by some bored rich guy.

So she curled up on a corner couch in the common area and tried to get some sleep.

~

And woke up zip-tied to a motel room bed. 

Among the many, many things going on in her head, the one at the forefront of her mind was how in the _hell_ did he managed to get her here without waking her up.

She stopped tugging on the zip tie when the phone rang, prompting her to roll over and pick up the cellphone there.

“You really should have considered my offer, Ms Smith.” Smith blinked at the phone after he hung up, sparing a second to contemplate shooting him before she heard It.

“ _Daddy! Daddy, no!_ ” 

Honestly, she didn’t remember much after that, or how she got free, but she did remember kicking down the adjoining door and coming face to face with a laptop.

And _him_.

It didn’t take a lot of effort to pin him against the wall (what was up with his back, that couldn’t be healthy) and leaned in, letting herself sink into predator mode.

“What the _actual_ fuck?” 

“You need to understand, Ms Smith, that this is something I need you for. I can’t do anything if something like that happens. I can’t do anything. You, obviously, can.”

Smith concentrated on the his pulse, which was oddly calm. She sighed, and straightened letting Summers stand by himself.

“Alright, you still need help with Abelli?”

“Yes.” She nodded to herself.

“Okay. In that case, I’m going to have to arm myself.”

“I don’t believe in guns.” Summers said, shaking his head, and Smith smirked.

“I do. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, I got it covered.” She walked away, waving his phone and wallet over her shoulder, letting herself grin at the sound of him frantically patting himself down. “Don’t worry, I left you a card, just in case. Talk to you later!”

~

Smith walked into her dorm, and her roommates smiled.

“Hey, Natalie! How are you?” She smiled.

“Good. Little restless, actually.” She dropped her bag on the bed. “You guys are going to that party later, right?” She pretended to be looking through bag and ignored them exchanging surprised looks.

“Yeah, you wanna come?” She looked up, faking a moment of hesitation.

“Yeah, I do.”

~

Three hours of girls getting ready later, Smith and her roommates piled into a taxi and made their way uptown.

They got out at a Upper East Side, making their way up to the penthouse and walking into a packed to the gills party. Smith broke away from her roommates in the crowd, and glanced around the room. 

She fished the bluetooth she’d hooked up to Summers’ phone (it was brand new, with no contacts, she had a feeling it was supposed to be a burner - a freaking _iPhone_ ) and put it in, tapping the answer button.

“Hello?”

“ _ **Can I ask you why you’re at a party right now?**_ ”

“Because this party is being thrown by an Irish mob boss’s kid.”

“ _ **How do you know?**_ ” 

“He and his friends were attacked a couple years ago, and they all have limps. The guy who went after them kneecapped them.”

“ _ **Okay?**_ ”

“It’s sort of hard to miss the group of pasty white guys in their mid twenties with limps getting plastered.” She grabbed a passing drink.

“ _ **Yes, no, I got that, what I don’t get is why you’re there.**_ ”

“Why, I’m doing the same thing the infamous Man in a Suit did.”

“ _ **Which is?**_ ”

“Stealing their weapons.” She dipped a couple fingers in the alcohol and dabbed them on her neck and collarbone, before taking a swallow and depositing the glass in the hand of a passerby.

She snuck up the stairs, scanning the hallway before walking along it, checking all the doors, stopping at the first locked one.

She got down, pulling a set of lock pins out of her bra and going to work on the door.

“ _ **Might I ask why you’re stealing them?**_ ”

“Sure.”

“ _ **Will you answer?**_ ”

“Honestly? Depends on the question.”

“ _ **Why are you stealing them from the mob,**_ while the mob’s home?”

“Because they’ll get in trouble for it, a, and b, do you really want _them_ to have access to firearms?” The door clicked open, and Smith allowed the corners of her mouth to twitch up as she pulled herself up and walked inside to the case full of guns and ammo. She eyed it appraisingly. “Eh. It’s a good start.” She went for her clutch, pulling out a small black square which she unfolded into a large duffle bag. She placed it on the the table in the middle of the room and started filling it up.

~

Okay, so, his new partnership was going to be... _interesting_.

Nothing underlined this better than, about 5 minutes after he’d heard the lock click open on her end, Smith had whispered a, “Gotta go,” before hanging up.

And Zach had hacked the police scanner right after she’d gotten there, so he knew that no police had been called, but his phone had abruptly gone offline and he had no idea where she was.

The fact that he was _already_ freaking out about her wellbeing didn’t bode well for him being able to keep calm and professional. 

He jumped slightly at the sound of heels downstairs, which was weird, since he didn’t hear the front door open. He padded down the stairs as quietly as possible, picking up the cane that propped up against the bannister, holding it like a baseball bat, before he stopped at the bottom when he heard the heels coming towards him.

He swung around only to come to an abrupt halt about two inches in front of Smith, who was holding him back with the cane _with one hand_ while looking extremely amused.

“Gonna take my head off, Summers?” Zach huffed and backed up a couple steps, leaving Smith to twirl the cane, contemplating it. 

“What?” She looked over, jolted out of her thoughts.

“Hm? Oh, nothing, just think that I’ll teach you how to swordfight.”She hefted the cane. “This’ll make people underestimate you and and you’ll still have a way to defend yourself.” Smith tossed it to him, making him take another step back as he caught it, and distracting him for a second before taking her in.

She was in a tastefully ripped LBD and heels with a giant duffle bag attached to her back, a sparkly clutch sticking out of a side pocket. She raised an eyebrow at him when he opened his mouth to ask, so he didn’t, switching topics.

“Alright, why are you here?”

“I need somewhere to put this, and as you pointed out, I room in a triple.” There was a slightly awkward pause, in response to which Smith raised an eyebrow. “ _So_ , where can I put this?” Zach searched her face for anything to indicate that she was bsing him, but she just put her other eyebrow up and gave him a look that, scarily enough, reminded him of his mother. He shuddered before turning towards the stairs again.

“Follow me.”

~

Later, after she’d arranged the guns to her liking (and after a truly scary comment about going to Home Depot to trick the room all the way out) Zach raised an eyebrow at her.

“So, when am I getting back my cards?” Smith blinked and pulled his wallet out of her clutch, taking the time to pull out a credit card before tossing it back to him. “And why do you need that?”

“Because I’m going to need a phone and a hi-res camera.” She considered a handgun in front of her. “Also, some gloves.”

~

Smith was perched on top of the building across from Abelli’s work, watching her through her new camera (so shiny) and taking the occasional picture, already hooked in after cloning Abelli’s phone and listening with her new earpiece.

“ _ **How do you even know all this stuff?**_ ” Smith smirked at Summers’ grudgingly awed voice.

“If I ever feel like telling you, I’ll let you know.” She adjusted the focus and took another picture. “You’re going to need an alias.”

“ _ **What?**_ ” 

“You can keep the Zachary, but you’re going to have to change your surname. If you check the most common names in the last 100 years, Zachary was 60th. Summers, however, is the 499th out of 1000. Pick something higher up the list.”

“ _ **Any more statistics to trot out, Ms Smith? And what is that on the list?**_ ”

“First. And anyone can find a Zachary Summers in the phonebook. I checked.”

“ _ **So**_ you _were the missed call._ ” Smith zoomed in on Abelli’s office when the door opened and a three-piece suit walked in.

“Yup. Shh.”

“ _Mr Caufield, what a pleasant surprise._ ”

“ _Ms Abelli, isn’t it just. I was just wondering if you’d gotten that last job through to GS._ ” 

“ _Well, I was about to, but I wanted to run a couple things past you first._ ” There was a very audible sound of a door clicking shut, and Smith recoiled from her camera.

“Oh, ew.”

“ _ **Are they actually-**_ ”

“Yeah.”

“ _ **Ah. Davis.**_ ”

“Hm?”

“ _ **My not-real last name. Davis.**_ ” Smith rolled that around in her head before nodding to herself.

“Okay, I can work with that. I think I’ll come back and give you the pictures over lunch, they look like they’ll be at it for a while.” She carefully put away the camera and went for the door to the roof. “Any preferences?”

“ _ **Grand Sichuan’s always good. I like their General Tso’s.**_ ”

“You know that’s not actually Chinese food, right?”

“ _ **Shhh, let me live my entitled-and-uninformed American Dream in peace.**_ ”

~

Davis’ computer room (because it was better to refer to everything with the name you were going to use, that way it stuck) was huge. There was a couple stacks of servers, along with a couple towers, 6 monitors, and a couple giant fans to move around the AC.

Smith was perched on the corner of the table with her dumplings, keeping one ( _extremely_ detached) ear on the proceedings while she watched Davis balance General Tso’s in one hand and type with the other. 

“Mr Simon Caufield has no significant others, no spouses, no nothing. And neither does she.” He leaned back to start eating and Smith shrugged.

“It may be something else, or someone else. Workplace relationships, there are too many variables.” At Davis’ prompting eyebrow, she started listing. “People can get angry over gossip, workloads, performance reviews, if they think others are making more money, if they were passed over in a promotion, if they borrowed their stapler for two seconds to staple something without asking, etc etc ditto ditto.” She shrugged and deftly picked up another dumpling. “I’d have to go in.”

“And how would you manage that?”

“Get some flowers delivered or something.”

“Aren’t most Pharma companies more heavily protected?”

“Nah, this is just ads. I can go into a door that doesn’t go by the front desk and pretend to be lost. Or fake an intern. Oooh, do they have interns?” Davis deposited his food in his lap to have both hands free for typing.

“Yes, they do.”

“Did Abelli want one?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Alrighty, put me up as the perfect intern, please, and I’ll go shopping.” She rolled her eyes at his suddenly tense back. “Relax, Davis, I’m supposed to be a interning college student, I’m going to thrift stores.

~

Zach wasn’t entirely sure how she did it.

Smith had disappeared and come back in the space of an hour with one bag- albeit, a rather large bag, but still one bag- and had taken it back to what he was already referring to as Her room, mostly because it had all her guns in it..

She’d come by the next day with her messenger bag and gotten changed, and Zach had to admit that she looked like the typical college intern with her slacks and button up and slightly beat up black vest, and she made it look _good._

He’d tried to listen to the interview, but honestly couldn’t because whoever that was was _really_ not Natalie Smith, but it was Britney “ _ **Call me Brit!**_ ” Evers, and whoever _that_ was was teeth numbingly sugary.

He breathed a sigh of relief when she finally got out and was introduced to Ms Abelli.

(And maybe the sigh of relief was a bit too loud because that giggle that followed sounded nothing like the airy, sugar-sweet thing that ‘Brit’ had had all throughout the interview.)

He’d started to tune her out, because no matter how amusing it is to think of someone like _Smith_ pushing paper, it did get boring after a while. For both parties, apparently, because she started humming, and it took him a second to realize that it was the _very_ very beginning of The Nutcracker Suite.

Oh, it’s going to be a long day.

~

Zach snapped out of his day dreams to Smith finishing the sentence, “ _ **-think I found our problem.**_ ”

“What? What is it?”

“ _ **There’s a chick watching Abelli and Caufield like a hawk, and she looks downright murderous. D’you think we should clone her phone?**_ ”

“Couldn’t hurt.” He listened to Britney’s “ _ **Oh, I’m soooooo sorry!**_ ” and heard the ping when Melanie Hobbes’ phone got cloned.

“ _ **Alright, that’s one point for her- or against her, I guess, I dunno- normal people don’t get that angry when you walk into someone and you’re not the one who drops everything.**_ ”

“Sure she just isn’t loyal to the company and can’t stand to have useless interns dropping their precious folders?”

“ _ **Ha. Haha. No, I think that the fact that she only got really mad was when she turned around to see where Abelli and Caufield went and found they’d gone into his office points us in the right direction.**_ ” Zach scrolled through Abelli’s phone.

“It seems that recently, she’s made a couple of calls to a burner phone, along with a number of calls to her parents.”

“ _ **Not that I would know personally, Davis, but I was under the impression that people with parents called them and conversed.**_ ”

“As a person with parents, I can tell you personally that you don’t go from barely ever calling them to twice and three times a day without something major happening.” He leaned back to take in the new information on his screen. “Ah. It would seem that Ms Hobbes’ father is someone fairly important in the Mafia.”

“ _ **Oh,**_ Awesome. _Track her for me, please?_ ”

“Will do.”

“ _ **Thank you.**_ ”

~

Abelli and Caufield left together, because _of course they did_. Smith picked up a leather jacket with a hood on the way there, because she was perfectly aware that her hair color wasn’t a common, and the less identifiable she was, the better.

Smith, after putting on the jacket and pulling up the hood, made herself comfortable in the stairs to the basement apartment across the street from the brownstone Caufield rented and settled in for the wait.

~

It wasn’t till after dark when a dark shape moved up the steps and bent down to pick the lock.

“He’s here, Davis.”

“ _ **What’re you going to do?**_ ”

“Stop him.” Smith ran across the street as he moved inside, and came up behind him as he pointed the gun at Abelli. 

In one quick move, Smith whipped out her gun and shot him in the kneecap. He went down, and stayed down, even as she walked over and kicked the gun out of his hand. She looked up, grateful the hood was long enough to keep most of her face in the shadows, and put a finger to her lips before going back out the front door.

“Where’s Hobbes?”

“ _ **Down the street to your right.**_ ”

“Alright, record this. Her phone, preferably.” Smith stowed the gun in the small of her back as she walked down the steps and walked right over to Hobbes, who looked downright gleeful.

“Is it done?” Smith nodded. “Perfect, now he’ll be available for someone real, not that bitch of an Art Director.”

“ _ **That should be sufficient.**_ ” Smith nodded again and grabbed Hobbes’ arm, dragging her back to the brownstone.

Only to find that, when Abelli and Caufield had retreated from the hit man, he’d retrieved his gun, so when they walked through the door, he shot at them.

Smith cursed in her head, ignoring Davis’ increasingly frantic hails in her ear and keeping one hand on Hobbes so she couldn’t escape, before pulling out her gun, getting as far around the corner as possible, and shooting the gun out of the hitter’s hand. 

Abelli came into the room again to see Smith push Hobbes into the room, and caught Hobbes’ phone when Smith tossed it to her, open to the audio recordings.Smith ignored her, “What the hell?” in favor of paying attention to the police sirens coming up the block.

Smith tore up the stairs and into the back bathroom, pushing the window open and dropping into the courtyard, which she cut across, going through an alley and pushing off her hood, before walking calmly around to sit on the nearest set of stairs to let herself calm down.

When her breathing had evened out sufficiently, she tuned Davis back in.

“ _ **Natalie! What’s happening?**_ ”

“Nate.” There was a pause and what possibly could have been a sigh of relief.

“ _ **What?**_ ”

“If you’re going to call me by first name, then I prefer Nate. And Ford, for the last.” There was a long pause, during which she pulled off her gloves and stuffed them in her pockets.

“ _ **Okay, I can work with that.**_ ” She grinned at nothing before pushing herself off the stairs and started walking down the street.

“You want some pastry? Rocco’s is really good.”

“ _ **Yeah, sure.**_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a feeling I’ll be following Ms Atwell for a while, huh.”
> 
> “ ** _Yeah. You can wait outside and I’ll tell you when she leaves._** ”
> 
> “Or you could tell me when she leaves while I look at stuff.” Nate smirked at the stunned silence. “I _am_ a Art History major, you know.”
> 
> There was a pause.
> 
> “ ** _Nate?_** ”
> 
> “Yeah, Davis?”
> 
> “ ** _I sorta hate you. FYI._** ” Nate grinned at the painting in front of her.
> 
> “I think I’ll survive, somehow.”
> 
> " ** _Asshole._** "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, I had college. And had trouble with a plot. 
> 
> I SORRY!
> 
>  **Translations (Done on Google, sorry for mistakes)**  
>  ~ _Ttaemun-e geunyeo neun jeoleul deul-eul su issgo, chalali geunyeoga museun mal-inji ihaehaji._ : Because she can hear me, and I rather she not understand what I'm saying.
> 
> ~ _Ye!_ : Yes
> 
> ~ _Shush, ulineun geunyeoga ajig anilago moleugess-eoyo._ : Shush, we don't know yet.
> 
> ~ _Geunyeoneun Brian ilaneun salam-i deiteuleul haji anhseubnida?_ : Isn't her boyfriend Brian?
> 
> ~ _Geunyeowa 'Jack' namja chinguleul gajigoissneun salam chinhwajeogbiteu geos gat-aseo._ : Because she and 'Jack' seem a bit friendly for someone who has a boyfriend.
> 
> ~ _Ani, geugeos iya , nan aus-iya , dangsin-eun nameojileul nog-eum hal su issseubnida._ :Nope, that's it, I'm out, you can record the rest.
> 
> Hope you like it!

“ ** _How are we connected?_** ” Nate raised an eyebrow at the air as she walked across Madison Square Park.

“I beat people who are doing/about to do bad shit up for you?”

“ ** _No, I mean Zach Summers and Natalie Smith._** ”

“I dunno. How does your family feel about your injury?” Nate could almost see him pause, obviously surprised by the question.

“ ** _Why does that matter-_** ”

“Dude, shut up and talk.” Davis huffed over the line.

“ ** _I was a football player in college, which was a while ago, until sophomore year, when I was tackled in a less than perfect way. It messed up my back- not_ permanently, _but it’s taking awhile to get fixed, especially since I skip physical therapy because the dude’s a tool. I went into computer programming instead. My dad won’t talk to me because I was going to be his mini me, and mom won’t talk to me because then she would have to come out of her drunken haze to admit something was wrong. My aunt runs a law firm, and my grandma just lives in a brownstone just off Central Park. And she’s always going on about how I should leave the house more and jokes about cutting me out of the will if I don’t get some exercise because she thinks-_** ”

“That’s it.”

“ ** _What?_** ”

“That’s it. You can tell them you hired me as a personal assistant/companion whatsit. I make sure you get out of the house and help you with stuff and make sure you don’t die coding for your website.”

“ ** _How did you know about the website?_** ”

“Google. It’s strangely fitting that you run a conspiracy theory website, though I can’t see you making that much money off of it, so are you working through your trust fund or what.”

“ ** _Partially. There may or may not be a couple of shell companies that contribute to the website. I also have weirdly good luck with the stock market._** ” Nate paused at the light, looking over the bustling farmers market in Union Square. “ ** _Y’know, Nate, that might work._** ”

“Cool.” She walked up to the baker’s stall and hung up, taking her employer’s groceries. “So why don’t we start by you letting me take those, Zachary.”

Zachary glared at her, blush creeping as the woman behind the counter hid a giggle behind her hand.

“One of these days I’m going to pull this stunt and take you, like, shopping, and _you’ll never know when._ ”

Nate just smiled, the perfect picture of innocence.

~

When they got back to Zach’s loft, Nate started putting his haul away just as his phone beeped.

“We got a number.” Nate glanced back as she stowed the sourdough, the corner of her mouth twisted up slightly.

“Cool.”

~

Nate pretended to look at the Hudson River School exhibit, tracking the brunette out of the corner of her eye.

“ ** _Haley Atwell, 27. She’s an art curator at the Met. She has a boyfriend, Brian Anderson, 30, and they live together a couple blocks away from the museum._** ”

“Family money?”

“ ** _How_ ever _did you guess? Anyway, she has a good working relationship with all of her coworkers, she’s charismatic and friendly to the visitors, she’s practically perfect._** ” Nate grinned at the faux British accent he inflicted on the last couple words.

“Nothing that would signify someone going after her?”

“ ** _Not a damn thing._** ” Nate nodded to herself.

“Probably works at being so perfect, then.” She cocked her head at a waterfall. “She seems like the type who has a schedule somewhere. Check her phone for me?” She wandered down a couple paintings to the sound of keys clacking.

“ ** _You’re right, she has a comprehensive play-by-play of every day of every minute of the next couple of weeks._** ” He paused, and Nate cocked her head.

“What?”

“ ** _Huh? Nothing, just- huh. Nate, in your professional opinion, if every second of someone’s day to day life is planned except for an hour between work and home, what does that mean?_** ”

“She lives, what, five minutes away?”

“ ** _Yup._** ”

“Then something’s up. When is this gap?”

“ ** _Everyday._** ”

“I have a feeling I’ll be following Ms Atwell for a while, huh.”

“ ** _Yeah. You can wait outside and I’ll tell you when she leaves._** ”

“Or you could tell me when she leaves while I look at stuff.” Nate smirked at the stunned silence. “I _am_ a Art History major, you know.”

There was a pause.

“ ** _Nate?_** ”

“Yeah, Davis?”

“ ** _I sorta hate you. FYI._** ” Nate grinned at the painting in front of her.

“I think I’ll survive, somehow.”

" ** _Asshole._** "

~

Nate flipped the hood of her jacket up before following Haley into the park, tapping her earbud on.

“Yo?”

“ ** _Might I ask why you’re going into Central Park and 10:30?_** ”

“Cause- ugh. What language do you speak outside English?”

“ ** _Korean? Why?_** ”

“Ttaemun-e geunyeo neun jeoleul deul-eul su issgo, chalali geunyeoga museun mal-inji ihaehaji.” 

“ ** _Wait, she’s going into the park?_** ”

“Ye!”

“ ** _I don’t have high hopes for this one to be a victim._** ”

“Shush, ulineun geunyeoga ajig anilago moleugess-eoyo.”

She followed Haley to the Alice sculpture and walked around it, leaning on a tree behind where’d she’d sat.

“ _Jack._ ”

“ _Haley._ ” Nate blinked up at them around the tree and wrinkled her nose.

“Geunyeoneun Brian ilaneun salam-i deiteuleul haji anhseubnida?” There was the sound of keys clacking, and a pause.

“ ** _Yeah, why?_** ”

“Geunyeowa 'Jack' namja chinguleul gajigoissneun salam chinhwajeogbiteu geos gat-aseo.”

“ _So, when did you you think we can move it?_ ”

“ _Later this week, I think._ ” She smirked. “ _There’s going to be an event at the Metropolitan Club at the end of the week, and we can sneek things out during the event, we always bring extra stuff and leave it in the back room if we can’t put it somewhere._ ”

“ _God, I love you when you’re crafty._ ”

“ _Only then?_ ”

“ _No, just especially then._ ”

Nate gagged.

“Ani, geugeos iya , nan aus-iya , dangsin-eun nameojileul nog-eum hal su issseubnida.”

~

Zach had the take out arranged on the island infront of him and offered Nate chopsticks as she walked in and dropped her bag on the couch.

“What’d I miss?”

“Gooey shit, nothing important. The party is on Friday night, you free?”

“Sure. Waitress or something.” Zach smiled as Nate bit into an eggroll.

“Yeah, or something.”

~

Zach ignored the weird looks he got as he made his way up the dorm building (in their defense, he was wearing a three piece suit- well, most of a three piece suit, he’d left the jacket in the car) and walked directly to the room number he’d looked up the day before.

He knocked, and there was shuffling before the door opened to a sleepy teenager who was _not_ Nate. She blinked sleepily a couple times before she registered him and froze, her eyes widening.

“Um.” Zach smiled.

“Hi, I was looking for Natalie.” There was a groan from the bottom bunk behind the woman at the door.

“Oh, you _asshole_.” The covers shifted and shivered before they were pushed out of the way and Nate got up, gracefully getting to her feet and walking over. “Really? Really.”

“Really, Ms Smith. If you are going to be my personal assistant/companion you should dress the part.”

“You’re taking me shopping.”

“Obviously.” Nate eyed him, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. 

“Will you be feeding me?”

“This will probably be an all day thing, so, yes.”

“Will I have a say in what I get?”

“Of course, but I get veto power as well.”

“Will this come out of my paycheck?”

“To be decided. Probably not.” Nate cocked her head before nodding.

“Kay, gimmie a sec.” Zach nodded, and Nate had barely closed her door when he heard the roommate he’d met start talking through the door as he leant against the wall next to it, Nate’s voice calm and soothing against her roommates excited tone.

~

10 hours later, Zach opened the door and collapsed on the couch as Nate led the small army of couriers up the stairs so they could drop off the _truly impressive_ amount of clothing. He slung an arm over his eyes and started to drop of at the rhythmic sound of footsteps.

He only came to again when the cushion next to his head sunk in and he smelled peppermint.

Zach opened his eyes to a mug of peppermint tea with a candy cane stuck in it on the end table infront of the couch. He picked up the candy cane and sucked on it contemplatively.

“Do I wanna know why you know I like this?” Nate shook her head at the book in her lap.

“Nah, not really.” 

And Zach would have asked anyway, really, he would, but then Nate dug her fingers into his hair and started scritching and, well.

Zach, if asked, doesn’t purr. At all. He also doesn’t squirm till his back hurts or act in anyway like a cat getting pet.

(Zach also didn’t know that Nate _had_ a Mona Lisa smile until he finally pulled himself up hours later and threatened to end her if she told anyone that he did. In retrospect, however, he probably should have.)

~

The next day was spent by Nate organizing the truly impressive amount of clothing and makeup (“Don’t start with me, bro, I can make you look like a girl while you sleep.”) the couple of days between then and the party were largely quiet. 

The day of, however, Zach almost had a heart attack when he walked past Nate’s room to get something and he saw Nate, mostly because he hadn’t heard her come in. 

“What the hell?!?” Nate looked up from where she was standing in front of a large mirror.

“Oh, hi. Black or purple?” Zach blinked, slightly thrown.

“Um. Black?”

“Kay.” Nate draped the dress across the bed and put the other away, ignoring Zach in the doorway as she started contemplating her shoes.

“When the hell did you get here?”

“Couple hours ago.”

“And what have you been doing?” Nate looked over, eyebrow cocked.

“What does it look like? Go away, you’re annoying me.”

“As it is my house, I don’t think-” Zach was cut off by a thunk, and he looked down to see a knife embedded in the door frame about hip height, and he looked back up, wide eyed.

She’d just-

He hadn’t even seen her _move_ -

“I’ll just leave then, shall I.” Nate looked over, predator smile in place.

“Probably a good idea.”

~

Nate knew she looked good, she’d been trained to be able to be dick bait, but it made her feel slightly better about herself when she walked down the stairs, heels clicking across the floor,  
when Davis turned around and his jaw dropped.

“I’m going to take that as a good thing.”

“Uh, y-yeah.” Davis blinked a couple times, and Nate watched as the shock was replaced as gears started whirring. “Are you carrying weapons?”

“Yep.”

“Where?” Nate grinned.

“If you have to ask, you don’t need to know. Shall we?”

~

Even if they hadn’t known something was going down, Nate would’ve thought something was up the second they walked through the door.

They walked in with the normal red carpet stuff, paparazzi taking pictures of everybody, selling the ones of minor celebrities to People and the ones of the rich to private newspapers.

And then they got inside and the security only briefly glanced at her bag before waving her through.

Davis got caught by a friend of his parent’s, and she excused herself to take a quick loop around the room to look at the displays. Nate stopped next to the door leading out into the hallway, caught Davis’ attention, and then tilted her head out the door.

5 minutes later they were walking in the general direction of the bathroom.

“The physical security’s mall cop, _maybe_ , and the display security’s almost worse than a joke. This place is a art thief’s wet dream.”

“Where’re they keeping the extra art, though?”

“Near the back door. Easy to load and unload, with no blind corners to get mugged in. Or for the police to hide.” Nate stopped as she heard muffled footsteps coming down the hall and pushed Davis into a darkened corner, clapping a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

She waited for them to walk past before pulling Davis out of the alcove and down the hall the way they came, coming up to a slightly open door. She nudged it open, and it swung silently to reveal a empty video surveillance system, half the monitors off.

“Where are the guards?”

“Bathroom, on breaks, not here. They are not the kind of people anyone competent would have hired for this job.” Nate moved into the room, clearing it before taking in the monitors. “These are all in places they’re really not needed. They planned this near perfectly.” Davis nudged her aside and sat in the computer chair before he started typing. “Whatcha doing?”

“I am giving myself a backdoor into the computer system so we can turn on all the cameras at once, along with giving me the option to turn on the alarms.”

“Get them caught in the act?”

“Yep.”

“Smart.”

“Thank you.”

He was done shortly, pulling out his phone as he got up with a wince.

Nate guided him down the hall, listening for returning guards-

“They’ve started.”

“Then turn on the cameras and call the police.”

“I can’t, they’ve hit a snag.”

“What kind of snag?”

“Someone got lost on the way to the bathroom.

“God _dammit._ ” She pulled her bluetooth out of her purse and put it in. “Find the bathroom, stay in the waiting room till I come and get you or tell you to get it out. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.”

Nate walked off, silently thanking any god that’d take her that there was carpeting as she made her way to the loading dock.

“What’s it look like, Davis?”

“ ** _One man, he’s around the corner from the rest of them, holding a woman at gunpoint._** ”

“Know her?”

“ ** _No- well, yes, she hounds me for donations to her charity for poor little inner city kids. I don’t really like her much, if I’m honest._** ”

“Why?”

“ ** _The first time we met, she assumed I was one of her inner city kids._** ”

“Ah.” Nate stopped, looking around the corner and took in the woman in the mother of the bride dress and the man in the mask holding her hostage. She leaned back, took a deep breath, and then pulled out her gun. 

The first shot clipped his gun arm, and she waited just long enough for him to catch a glimpse of her before she tore back around the corner.

Nate ran down the hall, hiking up her dress as she went.

“Alert the police, and turn the cameras on after I get to you.”

“ ** _You missed!_** ”

“No, I didn’t. I needed her not to see me when I took him out, so I got him to follow me. And it worked. Where are you and are you alone?”

She followed his directions and burst into the sitting area of the bathroom, pushing him back to the corner by the door as he started coming forward. This, however, gave her pursuer a chance to catch up, and he tackled her. He was not expecting, however, the heel to the stomach and he fell back as she rolled up, moving back towards the stalls. 

Nate ducked the first couple times he swung at her, coming up in the opening he left and smacked his head back into the stall. As he swayed, dazed, she pushed into the disabled bathroom and opened the giant window there, the police sirens coming in the window..

She turned as he groaned, watching as he refocused on her.

“Well? C’mon!” He growled and charged, and didn’t have enough time to stop when she moved out of the way of the window.

Nate looked out after him and smirked before looking back at Davis, who looked stunned.

“You just- he-” She rolled her eyes.

“Relax, he landed in the dumpster.” She looked back at the window and nodded at the lights flashing against the building across before reholstering her weapon (and ignoring the choked noise Davis made) and walking back over.

Nate heard the muffled footsteps in the hall as she pushed Davis down into a armchair and straddled his lap, resting her forearms on his shoulders, and stopped his “What the-” with a kiss.

It took a moment, but he reciprocated, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her thigh, slowly sliding to the hem of her dress-

Just as the door opened.

The footsteps stopped in the doorway, and there was a pause.

“Excuse me?” Nate groaned and turned, faking pissed.

“Yeah, excuse you, we’re busy.” She rolled her eyes, settling back on Davis’ knees. “Jesus, you’d think this was Grand Central, the way people barge in.”

“What?” Nate shrugged

“I dunno, a couple guys just barged through there and didn’t come back.” The uniform (a hot woman with the name CARTER on her badge) cocked her head.

“Could you just come with me and give us a statement?” Nate rolled her eyes.

“I thought I just did.” She gestured at Davis. “It’s not like I was paying all that much attention.”

“Alright, what’s your name?”

“Natalie Smith, NYU. You?”

“Officer Carter, NYPD. Your friend?”

“I’m Zachary Summers, 350 5th Avenue.” Nate was slightly worried that Zach would be too out of it to function, but he seemed to be working through it. “And, if possible, I was paying even less attention than she was. So,” He tapped her hip, and Nate dismounted, helping him up after her. He straightened his suit and held an arm out for Nate, who took it, before looking back at the officer. “May we leave?”

The officer looked them over before nodding them out. Nate nodded to her and winked at the detective walking up behind her.

~

They got back to Zach’s apartment, and Nate told him to find Jack and Hailey over her shoulder as she went to change.

By the time she got back in jeans and her jacket, Zach had pretty much found them, except-

“There may be a problem.”

“Which would be?”

“That van? Brian got into it.”

“Brian, ‘Hailey’s boyfriend’ Brian?”

“Brian ‘hired entire group of ex army and took it with him to meet Hailey and Jack, while pretending to be a buyer’ Brian.” Nate poked Brain’s face in the security video still before straightening up and leaving.

“Call you when I get there.”

~

Nate glanced in the windows of the warehouse, circling the perimeter before stopping at the fire escape. She hit her earbud.

“I’m here.”

“ ** _No Korean?_** ”

“Nope.” She backed up before running forward, kicking off a crate and grabbing onto the ladder, hauling herself up.

She pushed open a window and flipped over the ledge, falling into a crouch as she counted the snipers on the second floor, looking down over the first.

Nate snuck up and wrapped an arm around the closest one’s neck, a hand clapped over his mouth to stop him from speaking. She lowered him to the floor when he passed out, fleecing him of his radio and reaiming his rifle.

“ _...And I thought we had something, Hailey, but no. Apparently, you’re prancing around with this douchebag._ ”

“ _Brian-_ ”

“ _No, I don’t want to hear it._ ”

“Davis, I’m cloning Brian’s phone now.”

~

Zach calmly listened to what was possibly the worst breakup in recorded history has he hacked into the security cameras and the audio feeds. 

Brain looked pissed, Hailey looked torn, and Jack just looked like he wanted out.

Zach wondered if he should go get some popcorn.

He was actually about to when he heard Nate humming. And he thought he was the only one, until he saw the assembled start looking around.

And then she started singing.

“ **Way down 'til the fire finally dies out, you've got 'em wrapped around your finger, watch 'em fall down. There's something beautiful and tragic in the fallout, let me say it one more time.** ”

Brian tapped his walkie-talkie.

“ _Uh, guys?_ ”

“ **Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?** ”

“ _What the hell?_ ” Nate’s voice sounded different. If Zach didn’t know it was her, he wouldn’t know who it was.

“ ** _Are you looking for your hit squad, Mr Anderson?_** ” A gun fell to the floor, sans clip, and was followed by a rain of bullets and the empty clip. “ ** _They can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message and try your call again, thank you._** ”

Jack pulled a gun out of the small of his back.

“ _And who are you?_ ”

“ ** _I’m the person, Mr Stevens, who made sure that your associates were intercepted at the Metropolitan Club. I’m also someone you really shouldn’t try to shoot._** ” Nate stepped out of the shadows, her hood completely covering her face.

And, of course, this was when Jack pulled his gun and tried to shoot.

And how in the _hell_ did she move that fast, because his arm wasn’t even _up_ when Nate pulled out her gun and shot his out of his hand.

“ _Ow! What the hell?!?_ ”

“ ** _Like I said, someone you really don’t want to try and shoot._** ” Zach wasn’t even sure if she was looking at Brian when he went to make a break for it, but she shot his knee all the same.

Nate stowed her weapon and walked up to Hailey, who looked ready to bolt.

“ _I can give you money!_ ” Nate paused, and approached more slowly, head cocked. Hailey grinned. “ _I can give you more money than you could dream, together we’d be unstoppable, you and me against the-_ ” She was cut off by Nate knocking her out.

“ ** _I’m good, thanks._** ” She disappeared into the shadows.

~

“You can call the police now.” Nate grinned when she heard Davis jump.

“ **Jesus, _you gave me a heart attack. Gimmie a sec._** ” Nate pulled her gloves off and stuffed them into her pockets, pushing her hood back. “ ** _Alright, they’re on their way._** ”

Nate climbed up a container and lay flat, watching as the police came, followed by the EMTs.

“Hey, the officer from the club’s here.”

“ ** _Really? Cool._** ”

“Yup.”

“ ** _Everything going smoothly?_** ”

“Yup.”

“ ** _You wanna get dinner?_** ” Nate buried her face into her arms, hiding her smile.

“Sure.”

“ ** _Cool._** ”


End file.
